


baby it's cold outside

by konahau (naheka)



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 23:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naheka/pseuds/konahau
Summary: Y'all it's a snowstorm.





	baby it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

> for falsettodrop, who wanted the classic snowed in at a cabin preship shenanigans.

“Wow,” Tessa says, dryer than the desert. “You take me the nicest places.”

Scott beams at her. “I know, right?”

Tessa glares. “No. That was sarcasm.”

“Oh.” Scott’s face falls a little. Then he brightens. “Wait!” He digs into his pocket and produces a small warped chocolate bar. “Ta daa!”

Tessa stares at him. “How melted is that.”

Scott squishes it slightly between his fingers and winces.

“Nevermind, I don’t even care. Give it to me.” Tessa snatches the chocolate from his grasp turns away, sitting on the edge of the (single) bed, huffing and glowering at the floor.

Scott slinks into her peripheral vision. His eyes are big and very sorry. “Teeeeeeee…”

Tessa refuses to acknowledge him. 

“T-Boooone.”

Tessa sighs. She scoots over and Scott flops onto the bed, propping his chin on her knee. “I’m mad at you.”

Scott pouts at her. “I don’t control the weather.”

“You controlled picking this cabin.” Tessa affects a high pitched whine. “‘Come vacation with me, Tessa’, ‘It’s a winter wonderland, Tessa’, ‘you can drink wine and watch me shovel the driveway, Tessa’.”

“To be fair, I did not say that last one.”

“It was implied.”

“What if I get a fire going and heat up some food?”

“What if you go back in time and check the weather before you get us snowed in at a one room cabin in the woods?”

Scott sits up and pats her head. “You’re hangry. Eat your chocolate.” He hops off the bed and disappears through the doorway into the (only) other room. She hears him moving around, supplies rustling, his humming as he gets the wood stove fired up. 

Tessa sighs. She crams half the chocolate bar into her mouth in one bite, grimacing at the sludgy consistency. By the time she’s eaten the other half and licked all the melted candy off the inside of her teeth, the room is noticeably warmer. She sighs again, more pleased this time, wiggling her toes inside her thick socks before standing.

In the other room, Scott has stripped down to one layer, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. His boots are laying haphazardly on the floor where he kicked them off. She sets her own neatly against the far wall near the door, squinting out the window. “It’s not going to get better anytime soon.”

“Oh no,” Scott says, stirring something on the stove. “You’re going to have to eat me. No way around it.”

Tessa walks over to him and peers into the pot. She makes a face. “I think I would rather eat you, actually.”

“It’s classic,” Scott protests. “Beanie weenies!”

Tessa lets her silence speak for itself. But she does take down two bowls and a couple of spoons, and he hooks an arm around her shoulder to half hug her as he serves out the mix of canned beans and sliced hotdogs. They eat on the couch, under a light blanket in the dim light of the handful of half-melted candles they’d dug out of the various drawers and closets. 

Tessa is idly listening to the wind howl outside when something occurs to her. “Scott. This cabin has modern plumbing, right?”

Scott reaches over the back of the couch and lifts a plastic snow shovel into the hair, his bowl balanced in his lap. “You need a path to the outhouse?”

Tessa drops her spoon. 

Scott laughs, his mouth open. There’s a piece of chewed up hotdog on the back of his tongue. “Pullin’ your leg, that’s all. Not even I wanted to stay in a place with no running water and no toilet. No baths, though. Water heater’s probably acting up with this storm.”

Tessa steals his spoon in retaliation. “That was mean.”

Scott holds his bowl up to his face and licks it. “But it was funny.”

“It was,” Tessa admits, and sets her bowl aside, leaning against him. “Those candles won’t last the night.”

“We might want to save them,” Scott agrees. “Although it’s supposed to stop snowing by the morning.”

“Excuse me?”

“Uhhh,” Scott says. “Did I say…” he sighs. “Okay, I did hear there was a storm.”

“ _Scott Moir_.”

“It was on the radio! They just said ‘snow’!” Scott pouts at her. “I really didn’t know it’d be this bad. But it’ll only last the day. Then it’s skating at the pond out back and red wine with paperbacks.”

“It better be,” Tessa threatens. “I refuse to die in Saskatchewan.”

++

They talk too long, only stopping when the candles start to sputter out. Scott blows out the last of them, saving a little bit for emergencies, and Scott fusses with the stove while she drags out the big blankets from the closet and lays them out over the bed. “Hands to myself,” she teases him when he pokes his head in to check on her. “I’ll be a gentleman.”

Scott faux-gasps. “Miss Virtue. The absolute _scandal_.” He pulls the covers down and pats the mattress. “Hop in. I’ll put out the last of the candles.”

It’s already so dim she can only barely make out his shape moving through the room. She wiggles under the blankets, moving her hair off her neck and resting her cheek on the pillow. When he blows the last candle out it’s pitch dark, and she can hear him muttering to himself as he trips over things on his way to the bed. “I told you to put your clothes in the closet.”

“Yeah yeah.” She feels his weight hitting the mattress, the box spring creaking. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Scott yawns. “Admit it, it’s not the worst trip you’ve ever been on.”

“I guess,” Tessa says grudgingly. Just then, the battery powered space heater in the corner sputters once and noticeably goes out. “I take everything nice I’ve ever said about you back.”

He slings an arm around her waist and drags her into the warm bulk of his body. “The things we could get up to in the dark.”

“Shut up.”

“Ooh,” he says. “A little less conversation? Saucy.”

“I hate you.”

He presses his cold nose into the back of her neck, making her yelp and kick at him in retaliation. “Do you really?”

There’s something a little quiet in his question, underneath the banter.

“No,” Tessa says, after a few seconds. “I could never.”

His hand is on her hips, his finger brushing over the bony point of it, through the soft fabric of her shirt. He smells like wood chips and-- “You’re sweaty,” she accuses.

“It’s my manly musk.”

“Gross.”

“Is it really bad? I can go do a wipedown.”

“It’s not that bad,” Tessa admits. “Don’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Tessa had forgotten what this kind of darkness feels like. It’s almost disorienting. She curls up a little, tugging the blankets up to her neck. Scott’s breathing evens out; she can feel the press of his chest rising and falling.

++

She wakes up slow. There’s grey sunlight slanting through the crooked curtains in the window, and she’s bundled in a cocoon of toasty warmth. She arches her back, stretching until her spine cracks. 

“Shh,” Scott mumbles from behind her. “Mm sleeping.”

His breath is warm on the back of her neck, making her shiver. He’s hard against her ass. She rocks, lazy, pointing her toes and cracking her ankles, and his breath catches. When he speaks again his voice is clearer. “Tessa?”

Tessa’s eyes snap open. She squeaks, flinging herself off the bed and landing on the floor. “Oh my god.”

He’s blushing, sleep mussed and husky voiced. “I--I’m sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean.”

“My fault,” she says quickly. “Let’s just--I’m. Hungry?”

“Okay,” Scott says, after a few seconds of not meeting her eyes. “I’m just gonna…” He scurries off to the bathroom, bright red, and Tessa slumps onto the floor, her arm over her eyes.

She groans.

++

Scott makes coffee before anything else. Even black, Tessa is eager for the warmth of the drink in her mouth and between her hands, not to mention the caffeine. 

“It really is my fault,” she says, while he’s making a face at the ziploc bag of leftovers from the night before.

“Yeah,” Scott says, “not for nothing, but I’d rather not discuss it. We’ve never talked about it before.”

Tessa plays with her fork. “We’ve never been retired before.”

Scott’s hands still. “No,” he says finally. “We have.”

“Not like this.”

Scott starts moving again, pouring the bag into a pot and starting up the stove. He fills up her coffee and drops in two teaspoons of sugar. Just how she likes. “Not like this,” he agrees.

“Maybe,” Tessa says, carefully and so so slowly. “We don’t head home early.”

“I do owe you some good old fashioned pond skating.” His tone is hesitant, tentative. “We’ve never done that before, either.”

“Sure,” Tessa says steadily. “A weekend for firsts.”

Scott’s smile is wide and beaming; it’s impossible for her not to respond, her own face beaming back. “A weekend for firsts,” he agrees, and they sip their coffee in sync.

**Author's Note:**

> it's all about the tease!


End file.
